


I've Seen Suns That Were Freezing And Lives That Were Through

by cherishiggy



Series: Self-Contained Universe [1]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, most of the fics in this series are going to be silly fluff and around a half will turn smutty, my slight attempts at worldbuilding, trying to make up stuff about the promares as a species and as societal creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 23:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishiggy/pseuds/cherishiggy
Summary: On some occasions, Galo grew restless enough to not be able to sleep from all the pent up anxiety and emotions welling in him. Tonight was one of those rare occurrences.





	I've Seen Suns That Were Freezing And Lives That Were Through

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with song titles in the name of the fic *kicks down a krispy kreme sign* [Self-Contained Universe](https://nightmargin.bandcamp.com/track/self-contained-universe-2), the title of this series, is also a song that plays during heartfelt moments from Oneshot, a cute puzzle game. Won't spoil which, though, in case you'd like to play it yourself.
> 
> And the title of this particular one-shot is from Blue Öyster Cult's ["Burnin' For You"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcMSFZZ-erw). That line fits the sentiment of Promares being ethereal creatures existing beyond human understanding perfectly.

Saying Galo's oftentimes a ball of pure energy mixed with love for the whole world isn't doing the sentiment justice, Lio thinks as he pets the sharp stubble of Galo's undercut, listening to him babble about all sorts of things that came to his mind.

On some occasions, Galo grew restless enough to not be able to sleep from all the pent up anxiety and emotions welling in him. Tonight was one of those rare occurrences.

Galo's head rests on Lio's bony thighs, prickling them with the stubble of his undercut, but Lio doesn't mind. He's listening to Galo rambling about all sorts of things with half an ear, from coelacanths to how they might taste to "do they have bones at all?" to "do all fish have skeletal structures inside them?" to "are whales the only fish that are mammals?", at which Lio interjects that no, whales are not fish. Though, they are mammals.

Suddenly, his mind dragged into Galo's wild game of association, the trail of thought about mammals sparks a memory from deep within Lio's subconscious. His mother used to tell him tales that her mother, in turn, used to tell her before bed while he drank warm milk with honey and cinnamon.

Milk with honey and cinnamon.

Lio smiled warmly at the memory, waiting till there's a lull in Galo's talk about how weird it is that platypuses are mammals yet they lay eggs, so it isn't fair that whales aren't fish that are mammals as well. "Hey, Galo. Would you like something sweet before the bed?"

"Eh? Sure! But what is it?" He squinted at Lio, "You plottin' something?"

"Not at all. Just thought of something that might help you simmer down. Stay put while I make it, it shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes. I could listen to you from the kitchen if you speak up a bit."

"Fi-i-ine. But only because it's gonna be something sweet, and I'm in the mood for exactly that, otherwise I wouldn't've ever let you go. Your thighs make for a bad pillow, but they're comfy."

Lio snorts. Galo's logic is unbelievable sometimes.

Picking out a mug is no simple task, but Lio settles on the pot-bellied warm grey one, he uses it for cocoas in cold autumn evenings. One, two, three little spoonfuls of acacia honey, Lio favors it instead of buckwheat honey for its light, mellow flavor that always carries the fruity undertones underneath all the sweetness. Or is it slightly acidic instead of fruity? Galo thinks it's the latter. They'll never settle this argument, it seems.

The cinnamon milled into it, the cup's whirring away in the microwave, and Lio keeps watch so it won't beep, always somehow managing to stop it milliseconds before the annoying noise.

Mug in hand, he makes his way to their bedroom. Lio passes the mug to Galo, warning him, "careful", but Galo's tolerance of all blazing-hot substances is much better than his is, so Galo is enthusiastically sipping on the milk that should be scalding. Lio observes the crow feet slowly appearing around Galo's bright eyes as he savors the flavor, rolls it around in his mouth.

"That's some good stuff, Lio! And with honey, too, damn, you weren't kidding when you said 'sweet'."

The response is so earnest, so happy that Lio can't stop his cheeks from lightly dusting with a blush. "Glad to hear it, sweetheart."

Now, what to tell Galo...

Lio settles on beginning with his and his generals' relationships with their Promares.

Meis' Promare helped him light up his cigarettes since Meis was losing his lighter far more often than he had it in his pocket. Sometimes it threw memories of anti-cigarette ads at him, and Meis just huffed at it, "Don't be a buzzkill. Who knows, maybe we Burnish can recover from the harmful effects cigarettes have."

Gueira's was less of a nuisance, it actually was the inspiration for his Burnish armor. He was so enamored with the ideas of faraway galaxies his Promare shared with him that he remodeled his armor to accommodate some of those colors into its design.

Lio's Promare was a feisty little one, and the two-colored flames and pure bone-bleaching heat it was able to emit were enough of an indication. Though it also has its quiet moments, its constant need to burn and scorch temporarily sated, and that's when it talked to Lio. Not "talk" in the way humans do, per se, it preferred sharing images. Memories. Mental pictures tinted with the Promare's perception of the world. They were able to use human language, but much like real flames, they always chose the path of the least resistance.

At first, Lio was surprised at the trickle of images popping up in his brain whenever he's had a quiet moment to himself after another successful mission. When he tried to listen, to pry deeper to dig up the source of this information once, he stumbled upon the consciousness of his Promare that burrowed itself deep within his own.

And even now, a small particle, an ember of his Promare still rests within his soul, resonating with the absolute tenderness Lio feels for Galo all the way from the other dimension.

The Promares didn't really have emotions, but they could resonate with humans' ones and they know the feeling of all-consuming hunger as intimately as humans do. A Promare could be easily reduced to a weak flicker of flame were it not to feed in time, and its colors would go muted, dark. However, it shone with all the hues of the rainbow and in-between, bordering on blistering white from how raw its flame becomes in the moment it is fed. At those times, the Promares are restless at first, big, bright, and threatening to overtake their human's soul, but they simmer down to their usual selves, growing calmer with the more food they ingest. Though Lio cannot explain what the Promares "feed" on all that well.

Despite having so few things in common, the Promares, much like humans, also had tales and myths of their own, passed down in their tongue of simmering crackles of a flame feeding on a fresh log. The tales were so detached from human understanding and perception of the world, so hard to explain, but Lio tries his best nonetheless, his usually tame body language flaring up to better help Galo understand what he's talking about and little sparks of flames firing off his fingertips when he gets particularly excited.

Tales of rainbow nebulas gathering to birth a new, brilliant star, whispers of how beautiful the black holes are to Promares if observed from a safe distance, inhaling all sorts of matters in their gaping, hungry maws, stories from the much, much older Promares of how planets collided and gathered anew, Galo listened to them all with mouth half-opened, mind struggling to imagine even a quarter of the things Lio described. The cup of warm milk was nestled between Galo's palms, almost empty, and Galo had a milk mustache that he is too enthralled with the stories to lick off.

When the cup was emptied of the last gulp of sweet, spicy milk and nearly fell out of Galo's hands, Lio's well of stories is beginning to run dry. His reaction speed quick as lightning, he catches the cup from Galo's pliant fingers and pets his sleepy head.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna fall asleep on me."

"Whuwh--? No way, I won't. I wanna hear more!"

Lio smiles, Galo's quiet, slurred tone is so rare and so, so cute. "Let's strike a deal - how about we repeat this tomorrow when I'm able to remember more tales from the Promares, and go to bed now? I'm getting quite tired myself, to be frank."

A grin cracks across Galo's face, and he beams at Lio from the pillow, "Deal!"

The cup finds its place on their bedstand, just as Lio's hands find their place around Galo's waist under the warm blanket.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Love you."

"L'v you too, babe."

**Author's Note:**

> I might as well rename myself "domestic slice of life fics: the account", echhh.
> 
> [My tumblr](https://cherishiggy.tumblr.com) in case you want to talk about Promare with me ✨


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